


Muted Magic

by WhatNames



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Comedy, F/M, Gen, Magic, Mystery, Post Movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatNames/pseuds/WhatNames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an intruder infiltrates the castle and steals the queen's icy powers, the princess of Arendelle takes it upon herself to figure out who the thief was and where he went. However, when she tracks him down, the situation is far more complicated than she had anticipated. Anna needs to unravel the mysteries surrounding the thief, or he'll have to live with his icy mistake forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1 - Castle Panic

_Chapter One – Castle Panic_

                The night was tranquil and serene. The sounds of the fjord - waves lapping up the docks and boats gently floating - drifted up into the houses, lulling the town to sleep. This was normal for Arendelle. Since the Queen’s Coronation and the harrowing events that followed, the kingdom had mainly kept to itself. The people were content to continue working and the royal family had simply enjoyed their newfound peace. Queen Elsa had found peace with her family, her powers, and herself. Princess Anna couldn’t be happier to have all the time to spend with her sister and her boyfriend, Kristoff. No one would have thought that during this time of peace, someone had other plans.

~*~

                On the streets, one could clearly see the gates of the castle, and well beyond them. The royal family had a strict policy of leaving their gates open wide. It was a welcoming change from the thirteen years of no one coming in or out. It was not so welcoming, however, to someone who wanted a tour of the castle in the dead of the night. That’s why no one was near the front gates or the streets. The hopeful intruder was taking the overhead approach, the rooftops.

“Ah blast," a voice chided itself, “I forgot they had a bridge.” A strapping youth dressed in a tattered bundle of layered clothes squatted at the edge of the closest roof. A small, worn satchel hung dutifully close by his side. He rested his head against the chimney he had been peering around. “What would Grandpapa say in this situation?” The boy seized his head in his hands and puffed out his cheeks, trying to jog his own memory. His face lit up. “Never store your cooked meats near raw ones, they’ll soil each other!” He had confused himself. “No that’s wrong. Come on.” He puffed his cheeks out again and pulled at his ears. If anyone could see him right then, he would’ve felt very foolish.

                “Hello!” An overly high-spirited voice greeted loud in his ear.

                “Oh sweet mistletoe!” the boy nearly shouted, but quickly muffled it in his scarf. He quickly tried to scramble away from who he thought was going to turn him in only to see something completely unexpected. “You’re a snowman?” Sure enough, a cheery snowman was standing next to him. A tiny cloud hovered above his head, letting snowflakes drift down all around him.

                “Hi! I’m Olaf and I like warm hugs!” The snowman opened his arms wide, though he didn’t seem to actually expect the gesture to be reciprocated. The boy stared for a moment, flabbergasted by this development. Then a buttery grin spread across his face and he quickly wrapped the snowman up in his arms.

“I’ve never met a talking snowman before!” He pulled back and grabbed the snowman’s tiny hand and shook it enthusiastically. “It’s very nice to meet you! I’m Ni—“ He slapped a hand over his own mouth. He had nearly said his name because he was so excited! Olaf couldn’t help but laugh at this.

“I’ve never met anyone named Ni before either,” he chuckled to himself.

“That’s not my name!” he protested.

“Then why’d you say it was?”

                “I can’t tell you my real name.” He puffed his chest out proudly, his chin jutting forward. He looked like a pompous chimpanzee. Olaf looked at him quizzically. Then he looked around at where they were.

                "So why are you on the roof?” The boy was almost taken aback by such a direct question.

                “I want to get in the castle.” Again his hands slapped themselves over his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that. The snowman pointed at the wide open gates.

                “Why don’t you go in the front door?”

                “I don’t want to be seen.” It was just like his sister had said; he couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his own skin.

                “Do you _really_ want to go in?”

                “It’s important, yeah.” The snowman’s brow crinkled in concentration.

                “Wait, I’m getting something,” Olaf mumbled, and then he lit up, “Oh I know!”

                “Shh! Not so loud!” Even if he had been spotted by a snowman, the boy still didn’t want to attract any more unwanted attention.

                “Fall in the water!”

                “I can’t swim very well,” the boy admitted.

                “That’s even better!”

                The boy’s face contorted from shock, to concern, and then to surprise, because he was already being dragged straight off the rooftops and to the waiting docks. “No stop please I don’t want to get in the water!” Too late! Olaf heaved the lean lad into the water. He floundered about, trying to find a handhold. “Help!” He gulped in water with every breath he attempted to take. He was barely able to hold his satchel above his head with his free arm. He thought he was done for. Then those ridiculous twig arms reached down into the water. Olaf quickly hoisted him back onto the pier.

                “You weren’t kidding! You really can’t swim,” Olaf observed. The boy gasped for air, spitting out a mouthful of water.

                “When someone tells you they can’t swim, your first instinct should _not_ be to throw them into the water,” he scolded in between gulping in air.

                “I’m getting you into the castle like you wanted!”

                “The fjord is not a castle, no matter how you slice it.”

                “Follow me!” Olaf ignored his new friend’s complaints and raced towards the castle gates.

                “Olaf… Olaf!” he hissed, “I told you I can’t go in the front gate. It’s the middle of the night!”

                “Nice night, Olaf,” One of the two guards stationed at the front gate called to him.

                “Hello!” He stopped at the guard’s feet and grinned. “My friend Ni fell in the water.” The guard looked up to see a lean boy desperately trying not to shiver. His clothes were absolutely drenched.

                “Olaf! Did you scare someone else off the pier?” The first guard rushed to help the freezing boy. Everyone in the area knew that the water was a lot colder than what most people were used to. The second guard had walked into the castle, probably looking for someone to help. “We’re sorry about that; he forgets that not everyone knows him,” the first guard explained, pulling him into the courtyard. The guard that had left emerged once again, this time with an older woman. The boy guessed she was a handmaid. She carried a cloak to the boy and wrapped it around his shoulders.

                “Bye Ni!” Olaf waved from the gate. He pranced away; his job was over.

                “You poor dear, let me take you inside. We’ll fix you up.” She swept him up in her stride, and before he knew what was happening, he was already inside the castle. The boy wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a friendly escort into the building he was trying to break into. Maybe this wouldn’t be as complicated as he had feared.

~*~

                “Dandelion fuzz,” the boy cursed under his breath. If his mother had heard him, she probably would have slapped him. Not only because he had been swearing, but also because he had made a near-fatal error, again. He thought back to figure out where had made a mistake.

                After the handmaid had helped him inside, she insisted that he change out of the rags he had been wearing. She had some difficulty finding him a suitable shirt; all of the men’s clothes in the castle seemed to be tailored for a giant, compared to him anyway. He almost felt bad for leaving what she did gather for him in the guest room. When she left he had waited, and waited, and waited, and maybe have fallen asleep for a minute or four, but then, he was off. He quickly changed back to his damp clothes, leaving the nice warm garments folded at the foot of the bed. If he had actually been a traveler that could repay them for their kindness, he would have gladly accepted the bed and clothes. It was his policy to never take what he couldn’t return eventually.

                He snuck out of his room, slowly walking down the hall. If anyone saw him he’d appear to be half-asleep. That was all the cover he needed since he had been invited inside. He figured that the royal family’s quarters would be somewhere near the top of the castle. A procession of suits of armor led up to a spiraling staircase. They were all in pristine condition, save for the one nearest the stairs. It showed severe signs of wear, like someone had crashed into it and attempted to repair it without any idea what it was supposed to look like. He wondered what the repairman was thinking when they had pieced it back together. He trudged up the stairs, listening for anyone walking about in the night.

                At the top of the stairs, banister split by columns kept people from accidentally falling three stories. The other side of the hall was lined with cream colored doors, similar to the entry to his room. None were suitable for a queen. The finery of the palace was mesmerizing. Even the candlesticks were more elegant than any of the boy’s possessions. If he wasn’t so honest he would have tried to put one in his satchel. He turned a corner. A stained glass window adorned the end of the hallway. “Beautiful window, check; door with decorations…” Halfway down the hall, two tall white doors carefully decorated with flowery designs stood tall. “Check! Kind of,” he muttered. His sister had said there would be one door, but she was close enough for only having checked once. He pulled several stiff wires out of his satchel. Gingerly, he slid the wires into the keyhole, fidgeting until he heard a click. “Open sesame…” he whispered, pushing the door in slowly.

                A single figure snored away under the covers of a large bed. Even facing away from him, she was clearly royalty. He had found her! He slid the door closed just enough to look like it was closed without locking himself inside. When he approached the bed, doubt crept into the back of his mind. She didn’t look particularly queen-y. She definitely didn’t look magical. She hardly matched the description he had been given. “It won’t hurt to try,” he mumbled. Setting down the bag on the young lady’s bedside table roused her enough for her to roll over.

“Maybe later Olaf…” she mumbled. Drool trailed down from the corner of her mouth. Her hair had wound itself into a mass of ginger curls. That in itself could be labeled as magical; he had never seen such a nasty case of bedhead. He elected to ignore her and dug through his bag instead. He pushed aside various vials and bundles of paper to uncover a small pouch. This was the only reason he was here. He gingerly opened it. It was filled with silvery dust. He took a pinch of the powder and pressed it between his fingertips. He held it above her head and hummed to himself. His fingertips seemed to glow as the dust ignited with a muted light. The light slowly faded and he stopped humming.

                “Gidref,” he said, ending the tune.

                “Let’s see if you’re her,” he said. Reaching in his back pocket, he pulled out a chipped block of glass, a crystal with a point on top. He ceremoniously set the prism down onto the dust in his palm and waited. After a moment, the crystal dully shined a burnt yellow. “Dandelion fuzz,” he swore. She wasn’t the queen. “Wait. Oh no,” he realized who he had found. “It’s the princess,” he groaned. Of all the mistakes he could have made, this was probably the most ridiculous. “I apologize, milady, but I think I just mistook you for your sister,” he grumbled. He shoved the prism back into his pocket and flung the dust onto the princess. “You can have that back now. Sorry for any inconvenience,” he quipped, kicking himself inside. How could he make such a thoughtless mistake?

                “Mm, krumkake…” she rumbled groggily, chewing the corner of her pillow. He needed to get out of here. He quickly gathered his belongings. He left the princess snoring away, oblivious.

                “Where do I go?” he wondered aloud. He had found the wrong beautiful window, but at least he had found _a_ beautiful window. The royal women came in pairs, so why couldn’t the royal windows? Despite his flawed logic, around the next corner an impressive window faced out to a beautiful view of the mountains. “Whoa,” he breathed. With a view like this, any doors nearby must be… He turned around and inhaled sharply. “The queen’s,” he gulped. The door was decorated with delicate blue rosemaling. It stood solemnly in front of him, waiting. He reached out and grabbed the handle. He was shaking in his boots, and it wasn’t only because the door was freezing cold. “Here goes nothing.”

~*~

                This one was _definitely_ the queen. If the crown wasn’t a dead giveaway, all the snowflakes floating around _totally_ were. He didn’t even need to use his crystal to check this one. He hastily grabbed a handful of dust from the pouch and started humming. As the tune progressed, the floating flakes slowed. He paid no attention to the snow’s sluggish movement and progressed into a slow chant. “Etted re ne igam mos gej nak erellortnok. Vles enned atnej må ellips ne ellor, dev plejh va tsøv låtn arf te llort. Dem låtn tkam go låtn tkam, al gem få ekryts lit nim seilimaf syl. Nak enned netfark låsen i etted tsøtev i dlevk.” The dirty gray dust slowly turned to a dangerous blue, exactly as his grandpapa had thought it would. He smiled to himself and continued chanting. All was going well.

                Then the queen woke up.

                She opened one eye sleepily. Then both eyes popped open in surprise. She shouted and ice leaped from her fingertips. The boy was thrown back, smashing into a bookshelf. Books and childhood toys rained down. He resumed chanting. His mother had warned him never to leave a chant to run its own course. Terrible things could happen to the person being borrowed from. He tried to calm her by approaching, but it only made her more skittish. The floor iced over and he skidded forward.  The queen was simultaneously frightening and frightened, and he couldn’t decide if he wanted to comfort her or run far away.

                “Intruder!” the queen shouted. Icy spikes sprouted all around the boy, trapping him. “How did you get in?” she asked, pulling her sheets back to stand and walk over to him. He shook his head. If he did this part wrong she might get injured. “I said: how did you get in?” An icicle pierced his collar and he yelped. _Oh no. He had interrupted the chant._ At least he was free to talk now.

                “Your majesty, please stop! I don’t want to hurt you!” he pleaded. From the intimidating queen to the fearsome spikes, his warning was almost ironic. How could an unarmed boy hurt this magic wielding queen? Except that he wasn’t unarmed. The dust branded his hand, expelling a burning light. He flinched as it scorched his palm. The queen watched the boy, not sure what to make of this.

                The dust pulsed with light once then fell silent. Cautiously, he opened his palm. An explosion of light blinded him and left his ears ringing. When his vision cleared, he saw the queen lying on her bed, passed out. Her hair had turned from icy white to a chestnut brown. “Y-your majesty?” he ventured. She was out cold. Before he could make his way out of the icicle circle he had been trapped in, the door burst open.  The princess, her hair stuck up in a wild mane, ran into the room. She slid forward, nearly falling on her face. She steadied herself on the bed and finally spotted the intruder.  
                “Who are you?” she asked. Then she looked down and saw her sister. “Elsa!” She glared at the boy. “Did you do this?” she asked, marching up to the stranger.

                “I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I swear!”

                “Get away from her!” The princess pulled at one of the spikes and broke off the end. She swung it with a vengeance. “Out!” she shooed him.

                “Stop! Ah!” he shouted, dodging the icicle aimed for his head.  He rapidly picked his way out of the icicle ring, sliding to the window. He stuffed the dust back into the pouch, too flustered to realize that it was all shining blue. He was so shaken up he didn’t even notice when he spilled it onto himself and the floor.

Satisfied that he was staying away from her sister, the princess checked in with Elsa. The queen hadn’t moved an inch, and her breathing was terribly slow. The princess touched her sister’s hand and then her forehead. “She’s burning up. Did you do this?” she turned back to the intruder to find him, missing. “Hello?” The window had been thrown open, ice coating the windowsill and glass.

                The boy was gone.

~*~


	2. Crystallized Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crystallized Past - AKA Obligatory Exposition: Anna and Kristoff travel to the Valley of the Living Rock. Grand Pabbie confirms their fears that Elsa's powers have been stolen, and he explains the past of the mysterious glowing dust.

_Chapter Two – ~~Name that Crystal Dust! It’s Trolls!~~ – Crystallized Past ~~~~_

                The entire town was in an uproar. Once the people had found out that someone had not only broken into the castle, but also had injured the queen, no one wanted to be left out of spreading the word. Rumors sprung up like weeds. Some people said that a rival kingdom had sent a spy. Others claimed that it was a rebellion within Arendelle. Another group claimed that it was nature’s revenge from the Coronation Chill. Luckily, none of these were true.  The truth of the matter was someone of unknown origin had broken in, somehow made the queen terribly ill, and escaped.  And no one knew how or why.

~*~

                Princess Anna sat in the hallway, leaning on the window. She had been there since last night’s incident.  Queen Elsa had been fading in and out of consciousness, only awake enough to give a brief description of what had happened before passing out once more. The doctors had been trying to treat her all through the night, but they couldn’t seem to pinpoint what was wrong. She was running a high fever, and none of the doctors knew what to make of her new hair color. Anna had been darting around the room, giving helpful suggestions and sliding across the ice, until Gerda eventually shooed her out. Then Anna heard a loud clomping from down the hall. Kristoff, wearing his ice harvester’s clothes, turned the corner then ran to her. “Anna! There you are! What happened?”

                “Kristoff, it’s terrible! There was a boy in the castle last night and he hurt Elsa.”

                “What? A boy? How did he get in? He managed to hurt her?”

                “We, well, we don’t really know. I heard her shout last night and then I ran in and her hair was brown like Mo-, uh, ahem. It’s just he looked so little and scared and there was ice everywhere and I tried to get him away from her and he did because I almost hit him with an icicle but then he really got away like he ran away and the guards couldn’t find him and Elsa isn’t waking up and I don’t know what he did!” Anna gibbered.

                “Hey, hey, slow down. We’ll fix this,” he tried to reassure her.

 “What if Elsa’s sick for a really long time? I’ve never seen her even get a cold! She might not get better…” Anna stopped herself, before she talked herself to tears.

                “We’ll find that boy, and Elsa will get better, and it’ll all be okay.” Kristoff hugged her close, trying his best to be comforting. Anna pressed herself close to him. They had come a long way from when they first met and Kristoff had been cautious to even touch her. They stood like that for a while until Kai, the head butler of the castle, emerged from Elsa’s room.

                “Kai!” Anna disentangled herself from Kristoff’s huge arms, leaving him a bit miffed. “How is she?” Kai grimaced. He clasped and unclasped his hands several times, visibly brimming with unadulterated worry. Anna found herself holding her breath.

                “Her temperature went down some, but she’s still running a fever,” he reported. Anna exhaled.

                “Do you know what caused it?” Kristoff asked. He was still confused on the actual details of the event, but he had been improving at his jittery Anna-terpretations.

                “They can’t identify an origin,” Kai admitted.

                 “What are we gonna do?” Anna worried aloud. Neither of the men in the room would admit it in front of the princess, but they were equally as downtrodden.

                “Some guards,” Kai nipped her rambling in the bud, “found this on the roof.” He held a handkerchief in his palm and opened it. A glowing blue powder rested in the center of it.

                “What is it?” Anna reached out to touch it. Kai quickly stopped her.

                “We don’t know, but the guard that found it is in the infirmary.” He carefully folded the cloth up and handed it to Kristoff. The royal ice gatherer nervously held it away from himself.

                “What exactly happened to that guard?” He eyed the packet of dust dubiously.

                “He passed out, and his hair started to turn white.” Anna touched her hair, having not quite remembered that her own streak had frozen away.

                “White? You mean like…?”

                “Exactly like the queen’s,” he confirmed, “Well, how it was before.”

                “So finding out what that is could help?” Kristoff asked.

                “The trolls. We can ask the trolls!” Anna said, relieved to have a plan of action.

                “You actually want to see my mom?” Kristoff puzzled. He was sure that Anna had been avoiding his family since their last visit. The infamous “Grass Knot Incident” was still haunting him to this day. He cringed. Anna would never let him live it down.

                “Only because it’s for Elsa!” Anna shouted over her shoulder. She charged down the hall, determined. Kristoff had no choice but to follow the headstrong heartthrob of a princess.

~*~

                Anna and Kristoff had made excellent time after Anna had completely bypassed the stables and hijacked Kristoff’s sled. He tried to keep her out and get her horse, but Sven had been the opposite of helpful; he had practically lifted them into the sled with his antlers. He pulled them along and showed off all the way into the woods. Before long they had reached the Valley of the Living Rock. Boulders of all shapes and sizes littered the mossy valley. Anna hung back while Kristoff and Sven greeted their family. They passed by the rocks and said hello. The trolls woke up and rolled to welcome them home.

“Kristoff!” Bulda shouted, leaving Anna’s ears ringing, “And Miss Princess Anna!”

                “Hi Mom,” Kristoff chuckled as some of the younger trolls pulled at his arms and climbed onto his shoulders. Anna hefted one youngster in her arms, trying desperately not to be pulled over.

                “Hello Bulda,” she grunted, hoisting another kid with her free arm. She groaned. She had _not_ come here to juggle boulders. She could hardly pay attention with them weighing her down.

                “Is Grandpa awake?” Kristoff asked. Grand Pabbie rolled into view.

                “Now I am. Welcome home Kristoff,” Grand Pabbie greeted.

                “We, ugh, have a few questions, oof, for you!” Another playful troll piled onto Anna’s shoulders. “Get off of me please,” she squeaked. She wondered how Kristoff could manage to do this for all the time he lived with them. He hardly even acknowledged the quartet of kids climbing all over him.

                “What’s weighing on your mind?” Grand Pabbie asked, concerned.

                “Queen Elsa,” Kristoff answered. He pulled out the handkerchief and handed it over. Grand Pabbie gingerly unfolded it and examined its contents.  His eyes grew wide and he nearly spilled the glowing powder. He slowly folded it back up and gave them a decidedly measured look.

                “Where did you get this?” he demanded.

                “Grandpa?” Kristoff worried. The last time he had seen his adoptive grandfather in a mood like this, Anna had nearly died. Seems like Anna generally had that effect when she came to see his family.

                “Elsa’s room,” Anna answered, “What is it?”

                “This is… a rare magic, to say the least. I haven’t seen this since your grandparent’s parents were ruling …”

                “You’ve seen it before?” Anna asked. Grand Pabbie nodded gravely.

                “I gave this to a man long ago…” He massaged his temple. As he gathered his thoughts, the trolls whispered amongst one another.

                “Is he talking about that man? The Liana man…? Impossible! That was years ago! He must be long gone by now!” they gossiped.

                “It was very, very long ago,” he sighed. “A man, injured and abandoned, found his way into our valley. We healed him, but his injuries were very serious and he could not idle long enough to not injure himself again. He told us that he had been driven out of his town, but refused to state why. After living here for a time it became evident.”  Grand Pabbie conducted the Northern Lights to illustrate his memory. “Wherever he walked, overbearing weeds would sprout in his wake. He tried to avoid it but no matter where he treaded,” The lights showed a man walk across the sky, and was hounded by wildflowers, “the foliage followed.” The man was shown hacking at the weeds, but they grew over the vision, smothering the imaginary man.

                “Before I proceed, you must understand, this was a time when magic was much more feared. A queen such as your sister would have only been able to rule with the power of fear. No one with even a hint of magic could be trusted, which, consequently, is one of the reasons we live in this valley now. Not too long after he had arrived, and was still recovering, a youngster found a woman hiding in the mountains. If I am recalling this correctly, it was Bulda who discovered her and brought her back to us.

                “This woman, she was not secretive about what had forced her into hiding. Insects and any other small animals were revived when she approached.” The light morphed to show skeletal bugs and rodents rising up and following the severe woman. She shooed them but they followed her, like a black magic parade. “Similarly to this man, she had no control over what her powers affected. She visited regularly until, as such things often occur, the two of them fell in love and were married soon after.”

                “That’s so sweet!” Anna interjected, temporarily forgetting her worry. Grand Pabbie smiled lightly. He eyed Kristoff’s hand on the princess’s shoulder. Bulda nudged her husband, Cliff, and gave him a coy smile. When Kristoff noticed their reactions he quickly removed his hand. All of this went right over Anna’s head.

                “They wanted to have a family together, but they didn’t want their children to have to deal with the detestation from others that they received at their homes. Grand Sten, our leader at the time, gave them two options. The man chose the removal and transfer of powers, and the woman chose a home where they could let their powers flourish and grow at their own rate. He gave them both.”

                “Both? But how would that work?” Kristoff asked.

                “For the woman, he provided them with a small amount of land that was near no other people. It was an area reserved for them. The man received a small collection of our crystals. I myself taught him the chants used to transfer powerful energy from a person into a crystal and back again. If they have resorted to using this flimsy dust for the process…” his voice trailed off, troubled.

                “What happened to them?” Anna inquired.

                “A few years ago, before you two were even born, a young messenger found us and told us that he was their son, and that his father had passed on. I assumed that it was the end of them, but it seems as though there still must be a few people living on in his absence. However, they are not upholding his will. He firmly believed in letting empowered people make their own choices. Anything else would be an underhanded deal for them. I had wondered how they were faring…” He became lost in thought. “There’s not much I can do in this situation…” He gently handed the handkerchief back to Kristoff.

                “Well, how can we reverse what they did to Elsa? It was them, right?” Kristoff inquired.

                “What did they do anyway? I don’t think I get it…” Anna muttered. She hated to ask, but it was easier to ask now than to be completely lost later. She had slowly learned that over the years.

                “You must have suspected this already, but they have removed her powers over ice and snow.” Anna pulled at the hems of her dress. A threat like this surfacing just when things were looking peaceful was unsettling, to say the least. At last, Elsa had come to terms with her power, only to have it taken away, along with her health. Kristoff could see the wheels turning in her head, and he tried to calm her.

                “But you can reverse it, right?” Kristoff encouraged.

                “Only they will be able to manipulate it now, I can’t help you,” Grand Pabbie confessed.

                “What does that mean for Elsa?” Anna implored.

                “You’ll have to discuss it with the descendants of that man. Arvid Liana was his name.”

                “We have to find that boy,” Kristoff realized.

~*~

                _Somewhere above the Mediterranean Sea,_ er, _in the mountains surrounding Arendelle…_ Marshmallow sat at the steps of the ice palace. Elsa had not visited him. In fact, no one had visited him. He would have thought that at least someone would want to see the great big castle in the mountains. It was a beautiful sanctuary, and it was his duty to protect it. He would uphold his duty until he melted. Though it was awfully boring to protect something no one came to see.

                He had considered going down into the kingdom to look for the queen, and to be sure that no one was disturbing her solitude, but… Something deep inside told him he had to stay put. Plus he doubted that he could make it all the way down there with his busted leg. That group of soldiers that had taken the queen away had done a wonderful job of disabling him.

                He wondered how much time had passed in the kingdom. He didn’t have a very good grip on time, but if there was a threat, he could take care of that in no time at all. Those wolves that thought they could desecrate the palace had been terribly surprised when part of the mountain rose up and threw them back into the woods. He remembered their vehement howls quite clearly.

                “Ahhhuuh!” a voice howled. Marshmallow nearly jumped. He thought for sure he had scared away the animals for good. “Ahhhhgh,” the voice continued to moan. Now it didn’t sound so much like a wolf. He settled into the trench he had carved out in the snow and waited. The moaning and groaning grew louder and louder until he could hardly stand it. For a being with no ears he had surprisingly keen hearing, and he did not appreciate the ruckus. “Uuuaahhh…” Marshmallow was just about fed up with whatever was making this noise.

                “Go over the mountains, she said!” That was definitely not a wolf. “You won’t get caught, she said!” A boy, probably not over sixteen years old yet, hiked up over the crest of the mountain, looking straight at the ground to fish his feet out of the snow. “It will be easy, she said!” He scoffed. “Well if this is easy, then I’m a prince!” He shouted down the mountain, spiting someone who was clearly absent.

                “Ice palace my behind…” he muttered, “I don’t see any ice,” he gasped, “palace! It’s a palace! Made of ice! Ice palace! Pal-ice!” He laughed out of joy and exhaustion. “Ha! Hah! This is amazing!” He gestured wildly at the palace. Marshmallow prepared himself to pounce. Then his jaw dropped so far it left a dent in the snow.

                When the boy had gestured at the queen’s palace, icy streams had shot out of his hands and landed on the ground with an audible thump. A section of his hair turned icy white. “Ah! Mustard seed!” He buried his fists under his arms and hunched his shoulders. “If I keep that up everybody’ll know I messed up…” Marshmallow crept up behind the boy and stood at his full height. He breathed icy chills down the back of the boy’s ragged shirt. The boy froze and slowly turned his head. Terror filled his face for a split second and then morphed into morbid acceptance and he shrunk back. “You won’t get caught, she said,” his voice cracked. He darted for the steps. Marshmallow blinked. This kid was full of surprises. He chased after him. “Peace blossoms!” the boy swore.

~*~

Chapter two word count: 2,680 words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two word count: 2,680 words  
> I have to say, Anna freaking out is really fun to write, and so are magical backstories. I hope you all liked this chapter! I love all reviews and predictions, so I hope you'll leave some! I'll try to get the next one out next week so get ready for some adventure~ (What a great way to build up the suspense!)
> 
> After writing this chapter and a few more after it, I realized that I could have done it much better. Flashes of flashback would have worked much better than Pabbie blabbering, whoops! Although since this is my first draft, I'm not going to rewrite anything until I'm done.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one word count: 2,890 words  
> I've had this idea bouncing around in my noggin for a while now, and since I was procrastinating on writing something else I thought I would indulge myself with something with a bit more description.  
> In case anyone is wondering what language “Ni” was speaking, which hopefully you are, it was backwards Google-translated Norwegian. Here’s the English translation: “This is a magic that I can control. Even this girl must play a role, using dust borrowed from a troll. With borrowed power and borrowed might, let me bring strength to my family's light. May this power be borrowed in this dust tonight.”  
> I hope you all stay on for the whole ride, because I’m excited to take this as far as it can go.


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